That was where Miranda’s closing folder sat beneath a set of keys and the final walkthrough notes.
I had left it there the night before after meeting the inspector.
Ryan pulled it out, frowned at the law office label, and flipped open the cover.
I saw his shoulders tighten.
I saw him read the first page twice.
I did not stop him.
The house went quiet before anyone understood why.
Ryan was standing beside the kitchen island with the folder open in both hands, his face emptied of that careless confidence he wore like a family inheritance.
Kelsey noticed first.
“What is it?” she asked.
He did not answer.
He turned another page, slower this time.
She crossed the kitchen, snatched the folder from him, and looked down.
Her expression shifted so quickly it almost looked theatrical.
Confusion, irritation, fear, then rage.
“Wait a minute,” she said.
Nobody moved.
